The Client
by ThisIsReallyHappening
Summary: I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well. ExB. Rated M. Comedic Romance.
1. She Did This To Herself

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter One: She Did This To Herself**

"You have _got _to be kidding me."

Staring at my appearance in the mirror, I can't believe I was talked into this. Red leather pants, a bright yellow shirt, cowboy boots that were certainly not made for walkin'…

"Ariana, you're fired!" Glaring at the person beside me, I held my hands on my hips in authority.

_Look at her, sucking on her thumb all innocent-like_. I would not be swayed by her charm.

My assistant Jessica shakes her head at me. "Goodness, Bella, she's three years old." Scooping up her adorable daughter, Jess consoles her pouting child with a hug.

"Okay, fine." I relent by placing a kiss on Ariana's rosy, cherubic cheek. "You're get a five dollar severance package. And a lollipop. Take it or leave it."

Ariana's blue eyes light up as she giggles and reaches for the candy in my hand. It's the least I could do. Jobless, but cute. She'll bounce back quickly.

Rolling her eyes, Jessica unwraps the lollipop and sends Ariana to play with her toys. Helping me peel out of the vagina-squeezing contraption, Jess starts again with one of her endless speeches. "Bella, you have to hire someone. I know Leah didn't work out, but this is ridiculous. You need a stylist. Award season is coming up and you don't want a repeat of last week's charity event."

No, I most certainly did not. I ordered a dress online like some sort of civilian and it ripped right on the red carpet. Serves me right. Bella Swan. Actress. Model. Butt Crack Flasher. My resume was growing by the second.

Sighing, I plop down on the hotel suite bed in only my undergarments, my brunette curls spreading around me. "I can't believe Leah left me hanging like this."

"Bella, her brother was extremely sick. She had to go back to Texas. Besides, there's a million stylists who would love to dress the Almighty Bella Swan. Paul de Lahote, Ephraim Blacke, Emilia Young…you've got your pick of the litter."

I shake my head in protest. "No way. They are already dressing everyone. I need fresh meat. Someone different. Someone with a new perspective. I want to be reinvented. A little more Best Dressed, a little less Embarrassing Star of the Week."

Patting my head, Jessica sits on the bed beside me. "We are in the one of the fashion capitals of the world. New York is where it's at! You want fresh meat, we'll find someone."

"You're right!" I exclaim, the plan developing in my head. "There's several fashion schools around here. I find someone, pluck them out of college, and hire them. It's perfect. It'll be exactly what I'm looking for."

"Wait a second," Jessica interrupts. "I didn't say anything about causing the college dropout rate to rise."

I frown at Jessica's resistance. "Listen, Jess, I know today has been hard. I mean, I almost died wearing your leather pants, your daughter was fired, and now I'm going to have to deduct from your pay because Ariana is eating chocolate from the minibar. But you have to understand, how I look changes lives. One day, future generations are going to look back at my photo and say, 'Wow, that Bella, she impacted so many with just one pair of Christian Louboutin shoes.' Then they'll all bow down and worship me."

"What about the invention of the internet, possible cures for cancer, and the development of DNA fingerprinting?" Jessica asks sarcastically. "All null and void because you made Best Dressed in People Magazine? Get over yourself."

I shrug and smirk. "You just can't let me live my life, can you?"

_The pillow that hits me is much harder than I expected._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing,**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**


	2. Sounds Legit

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Sounds Legit**

Ariana is fast asleep by the time we make it to the Academy of Design. Nestled on the outskirts of the city, the school's vast campus makes it difficult to navigate around. I pull my sleek, white Mercedes Benz into the nearest parking spot and face my best friend.

"So," I said, looking at Jessica. "How are we doing this?"

Jess laughs out loud. "We? There's no 'we' in this. Ariana is sleeping. I'm not waking her up so you can go hijack some poor freshman from a proper education."

"You brought her along to get out of work, didn't you?"

Jessica appears forlorn at my jest. "Hey, I'm sorry, Bella. Mike had that conference this week, and his mom wasn't feeling well. I couldn't just leave her with some stranger."

I give my best friend a kiss on the cheek. "I'm kidding, Jess. You know I love my little munchkin. Besides, I think I've got this. Seven number one box office films, two Academy Awards, one Golden Globe; someone will want to work for me."

"Yeah, until they realize you're crazy. Go get 'em, Bells!"

Smiling, I reapply my lip gloss, tousle my brunette locks, and straighten my designer shirt. After one last glance at Jess, I confidently step out of my vehicle, searching for any group of students lurking about.

The campus, with its architectural buildings and clean cut lawns, boasted of fresh talent. Or at least that's what I assumed. No visible people were chatting outside, holding books and sipping on lattes. What kind of campus was this?

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a young man turn the corner of one of the pristine structures. Racing in my heels, I attempt to catch up, my hair flying behind me. "Wait! Hold up!"

The figure in blue stops, reappearing several feet away. I slow down to a brisk pace and gaze wondrously as I step closer to the gentleman.

_Wow, they've really got their own sense of style here. _Dressed in distressed blue overalls, with rugged, disheveled hair stood a gorgeous man with piercing green eyes. Aside from the getup, he was absolutely delicious.

Swallowing deeply, the man spoke, puffing on the butt of his cigarette. "Yes? May I help you?"

Grinning widely, I put my best foot forward. "Actually, you can. I know this sounds strange, but I'm an actress and-"

Crushing his cigarette on the side building, the man smiles. "I know who you are. Bella Swan, right? From that one movie about the dying artist?"

_The movie that made my career? Yeah, sure, but now is not the time to be boastful. _"Endless Lane. That's me. Anyways, I'm in a bit of a rut. I need a fashion student. Like today. My stylist left me and its award season and if I don't find someone soon, I'm screwed."

"Listen…Miss Swan, I'm sorry, but-"

"It pays well," I prod.

"I figure, but-" He shifts his feet uncomfortably.

"I pay all traveling costs," I continue. "Food. Clothing. You live on my property, rent free. It's magnificent."

"Sounds great and all-"

"It's based in Hollywood. So you'll have to leave, but I'll make it worth your while. I promise." _Please?_ My eyes beg for mercy.

"Leave New York?" The beautiful man stares off into an unknown distance and after a few seconds of silence, cocks his head to the side. "How much did you say?"

I grin in victory. "A million dollar contract. For one year. Not including the perks."

The man nods and puts out one hand to shake. "Edward Cullen. It would be my pleasure to work for you."

I squeal in the most unprofessional manner, and hug the stranger who had just saved my life. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You have no idea how happy I am I found you. Here's my card. Call me tomorrow morning. My flight leaves at ten. Are you prepared to leave by then?"

Edward nods.

With another hug, I explain my assistant was in the car and that I had to hurry. Without a second look back, thoughts about my impending fashion future blur sporadically through my head. Jessica is not going to believe my luck.

* * *

Walking back to his original location, Edward removes his janitor overalls and swings them overtop the mop bucket. Fashion stylist? Who was he kidding? And how the hell did she not notice his garb was not a uniform?

It didn't matter.

He had less than twenty-four hours to learn everything he needed to know about clothes. This job was the opportunity of a lifetime. His days of cleaning toilets at the Academy were over. He was beyond sick of New York, and struggling on a day-to-day basis. Bella Swan was a gift from Heaven.

And really, she needed his help. The bottom of her heels were red.

_Anybody who colored the soles of their shoes with marker was in dire need of his assistance._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing,**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**


	3. Somewhere, A Thrift Shop

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised, and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Somewhere, A Thrift Shop Is Missing Its Mannequin**

Her reaction is less than stellar.

I seem to have underestimated the excitement factor here.

"You did _what_?" Jessica hissed. Spews of lettuce spread everywhere. Forks were dropped. Croutons fell to the floor screaming their last words. Somewhere, a little tomato cried for the mercy of their children.

"I hired him on the spot," I explain, silently reassuring my salad they would never reach the impending doom that Jess's had. "He's perfect."

_Perfectly lickable, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't a real qualification._

"Did you see his portfolio?"

I pause. "Well, no."

"A resume? Any references?"

"No, but-"

"A damn homework assignment?"

Sighing, I reach over, slicing another meatball for Ariana. The poor girl had more spaghetti sauce on her face than in her belly. I'm sure the chef of Sorella's Italiano would be saddened to see such a masterpiece gone to waste. Returning my attention back to Jess, I do my best to convince her of my decision.

"Listen, I don't have any of those things. Which, now looking back on it, would have seemed like the intelligent thing to do. But given the circumstances-and his factor of hotness-I think this will work out. His outfit alone told me all I needed to know. It was edgy, rugged. A little dirty now that I think about it. But edgy, nonetheless. That's what I need for myself. As my friend, you could at least support me on this."

Jess pats her mouth with a napkin and folds it back onto her lap. "Fine. You want my support, you have it. But if this guy turns out to be a serial killer, you're on your own."

I open my mouth in shock. "You wouldn't even attempt to save me?"

"Am I in your will?" she asks.

"Of course," I reply.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

The airport, even early in the morning, is buzzing with hordes of people and hushed conversations. I shift my weight from foot to foot, my anxiety reaching new heights.

"What if he's late? What if he doesn't come? What if he's kidnapped by a group of angry ants and they're holding him hostage in exchange for watermelon?"

Jess grabs my purse for me. "Listen to yourself! You sound like a lunatic. He'll be here. He told you he was on his way. Just try to stay inconspicuous. If the paparazzi find you here, it'll be chaos. Just keep your shades and hat on, and hang tight. Do you need anything?"

I sigh, blessed that I have the best assistant in the world. Even if she is a little bossy. "I'm good, thanks."

Checking my phone in the meantime, I divert calls from my accountant and several from my publicist. My dad, Charlie, also called, but that was certainly not a conversation I wanted to participate in right now. That man's number one agenda was to get me married off to a "gentleman suitor." He must have seen the magazine articles of me chatting with lead actor Emmett McCarty. That would never happen. That man was more arrogant than myself. And that's saying a lot.

I glance around as Ariana gets her shoe retied by her mother. The impending approach of Edward Cullen at 9:51 in the morning is too much to bear.

"Jess," I whisper. "Jess…Jess!"

"What?"

I am still silent as all I can do is gawk. I feel Jessica's movement beside me as she rises up and sucks in a gasp of air.

"Is that him?" she murmurs.

I nod silently.

"You lucky mother fu-"

"Heeeeyyyy!" I draw out a long greeting, making sure I step on Jess's foot as I stroll towards Edward.

"Hi." Brushing his chaotic hair with a sweep of his hand, I attempt not to stare. This was not the Edward I had met previously the day before. It was as if P. Diddy had ate him for breakfast and regurgitated the leftovers. The man was dressed in reasonable dark denim jeans and a white t-shirt, but layers of gaudy necklaces hung around his neck. I'd bet my Chanel purse they weren't real. A gold, or some sort of metal, watch was strapped around his wrist. Aviators protected his eyes, but on the side of the frames were the letter Z. I had a similar pair, but mine had a G, for Gucci. I guess they were making the whole alphabet now.

"Wow, you look…just, wow!" I stutter to come up with an appropriate term for the man that stood before me.

Edward beamed, appeased with my response. "Oh you know, just another day, another outfit. I live, breathe, and die fashion. That's me. A fashionista. I mean, fashionistor. I mean-"

I laugh. "Edward, its okay. C'mon. I want you to meet my assistant."

We stroll towards Ariana and Jessica, who has yet to close her mouth. "Jessica, this is Edward. My new stylist. Edward, this is Jessica, my assistant. She may also claim to be my best friend, but that's still up for debate."

Jessica rolls her eyes. "Har, har. Nice to meet you, Edward. Welcome aboard the crazy train. Whatever Bella is paying you, I can assure you, it's not enough."

"Funny." My deadbeat glare beams lasers as I nudge her with my elbow.

"And who is this little Princess?" Edward kneels down in front of Ariana, putting his luggage on the floor.

"This is my daughter, Ariana," Jessica answers.

"I'm Ariana, and I'm dis many." The child holds up three adorable, chubby little fingers and smiles shyly.

It's all an act. She knows exactly what she's doing. I should have gotten rid of her when I had the chance. She can consider her severance package gone. _You did it to yourself, missy. _

"Three years old? You're such a big girl. You're not too old for magic, are you?"

"Magwic?" Ariana looks in awe as Edward pretends to tickle her ear. In his hand appears a quarter.

She giggles, the cuteness obscenely reaching new levels of dramatic. "Is that aww mine?"

"All yours, Princess." Edward's grin is more than any of us can bear.

I clear my throat. "I guess we better get going. Embry isn't going to be too happy if we're late."

"Embry?" Edward questions.

"The pilot. We fly on a private plane," Jess explained. "You're in the big leagues now."

Edward nods and we all head towards the terminal. There was a lot to do in the upcoming weeks and little time to prepare.

But all of those things were of little importance. I had only one mission on my agenda and they all involved Little Miss Sassycakes.

_She was going down faster than Octomom's eggs at a sperm bank. _

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing,**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**


	4. The Banana Has Gonorrhea

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised, and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Banana Has Gonorrhea **

The plane ride from New York to Los Angeles would have been the opportune moment to have a real conversation with Edward. This would have included discussing likes and dislikes, family background, and why he pursued his passion for fashion. Instead, our friendly chat turned quickly into a debate on what we would do for a Klondike Bar.

And that's when you discover who someone truly is.

"Kittens?" I had asked in horror. "Poor, innocent, defenseless kittens?"

Edward had hung his head in shame. "It's the chocolate. The delicious chocolate. I mean, what _wouldn't_ I do for a Klondike bar?"

We all sat in silence, too disturbed to contribute any more to the discussion. Edward tried to speak to me again, but I couldn't.

"You're like the Hannibal Lector of Ice Cream. I can't, Edward, not right now. Just….Not. Right. Now."

It wasn't until the plane had landed that I had decided to give Edward a break.

"Edward?" I had whispered, my inner turmoil churning. "I get it. I just wanted you to know that. And I would never do that to kittens, but I would to Lindsey Lohan."

When he nodded, that's when I knew: Klondike Bars started wars. But they also brought people together.

* * *

"This is yours?!" Edward dropped his bags in front of my sprawling estate, his facial expression stuck in a position of awe.

I was giving Jess last minute instructions on the phone after making sure she and Ariana had arrived carefully at home. "Okay, and can you make sure my Mercedes in New York gets returned to the car dealer for safe keeping? Really? Thanks Jess, you are the best. Talk to you later. Bye!"

The home was impressive, I could at least admit that. Located in an enclosed neighborhood, my seventeen thousand square foot villa represented all that I had worked for. With twelve bedrooms, ten bathrooms, and an Olympic sized swimming pool taking up half my property, the luxury mansion was my most gorgeous and extravagant purchase.

Smiling, I said goodbye to my driver as Edward picked up our luggage. "Well, you know. It's too much for one person, but I love it. I like pretty things."

Edward mumbles something under his breath as I unlocked the front door. "Welcome to my humble abode."

The marble foyer opened me with welcome arms as I instructed Edward to drop the bags on the floor. "C'mon, let me give you the grand tour."

After showing Edward each wing of the house, the indoor spa, the personal movie theater and the dining room which sat twenty people, we sprawled out on one of the living room sofas. "You can chose which bedroom you want. Just be forewarned, I wake up at the crack of dawn, so you may want to take a room away from the gym. I pump my music up super loud."

Edward smiles. "I never got the chance to thank you. You are the nicest celebrity I have ever met."

"You've met other famous people?" I question, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"Well, no, but I'm sure you'd still be the nicest."

I chuckle, kicking my heels onto the floor. "You're biased. And a bit of a kitten killer. I don't know if I can trust your opinion."

Edward laughs and something about it made my insides tingle. Trying to find some space, I jump up. "Are you hungry?"

Following behind me, Edward sits at one of the bar stools in the kitchen. "Whatcha got?"

I look inside my empty freezer. "Not much. Chef Boyardee comes once a week to deliver pre-made meals, but I've been gone for two weeks."

"Chef _who_?" Edward snickers.

"Chef Boyardee," I answer giggling. "He's got a French name, but I can't pronounce it, so that's what I call him. Just don't say that to his face. Otherwise, you get a bowl of ravioli and then it's all Hunger Games up in here."

"Got any fruit?"

I slide a soda across the counter and search for anything sweet. Well-ripened bananas sit in a basket near the steel stove. "All I've got is bananas. But I think you're too good for them."

Cocking his head, Edward smirks, his green eyes sparkling. "Why's that?"

"They're kind of whorish-like. Threatening to die unless you undress and eat them. Don't be a slut, Edward. That's what they want."

"So, what? You going to pimp me out to donuts instead? No way. I'm not going down like that. Just one banana. I'll treat them well, I promise."

"Fine, you win." I toss Edward the offensive fruit. "Okay, I have to go to my office. I've got a million things to do and phone calls to return. The house is all yours. If you need me, just hit the intercom. We'll discuss the business stuff later tonight."

Edward chokes, the banana finally getting the best of him. "Business?"

I shrug. "Yeah, you know. Legal work. Your contract. Then we'll lay out a plan for shopping tomorrow and see some designers."

"Right." Edward is starting to turn pale.

"You okay?" I ask in concern.

"I'm fine. I guess you were right."

"About what?"

"_Damn banana. Tried to screw me and couldn't even give me the courtesy of a reach-around."_

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**


	5. He Didn't Even Volunteer

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: He Didn't Even Volunteer**

It is only when Edward squirts the ketchup on his fries instead of beside them that I realize this is not the kind of person I should be associating myself with.

I shuffle his contract papers to the side on the mahogany table and stare in horror. "Don't do that."

Edward stuffs a mouthful of the sacrificed potatoes into his mouth, wiping the ketchup away with his hand. "Do what?"

"Eat french fries that you drowned in ketchup. Have you no self-respect? No honor? Those potatoes laid down their life for you and you have the audacity to treat them with such negligence? Dip the fries, Edward. Respect the spud. They've suffered enough."

Edward stares at me momentarily before slowly picking up the ketchup bottle. With his green orbs never leaving mine, he smothers each fry until his entire plate is nearly red. "The potato makes delicious French fries and chips. Has your salad ever helped mankind? No. So tell your lettuce to get its shit together."

On that note, he savors another disgusting bite, licking his fingers one by one.

I scowl and scan over the lengthy paperwork before me. "It's moments like this I contemplate on reconsidering your contract. Deducting a few hundred grand might change your ways."

Edward smirks in the most adorable way and it takes all of my energy not to chew on the end of my pen. Besides, no matter what a toddler tells you, in no way, shape, or form does it taste like strawberries.

I wasn't falling for that again.

"Are you threatening me, Miss Swan?" Edward's eyes glimmer as he takes another bite of the food we had delivered. "You are forgetting your image is in the palm of my hands. If anyone has the power, it's me."

"Listen, let me just come out-"

Interrupting me with a slow clap, Edward applauds me loudly. "I knew you could do it. Be out and be proud!"

I giggle and throw a tomato at him in jest. "You're an ass. Are you ready to sign the damn papers or not?"

"Sure, sure." Edward grabs the pen and writes his signature on several forms. "I hope you didn't screw me in the fine print."

"No," I answer. "I would never do that. But my lawyer would. So, don't mess up."

I hold my hand out in a formal gesture as Edward returns the handshake. "I guess that means I'm officially your employee. Per my rights, I would ask that you not violate any codes by trying to molest or harass me. Otherwise, it's going to be as awkward as two porcupines having sex in a mulberry bush."

It takes every ounce within me not to choke on my own saliva. "We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Edward's smile melts whatever little self-control I have left. "No ma'am."

* * *

Walking up the stairs with Edward behind me gives my stomach little jitters that I can't explain. Almost like I feel his eyes peering into my back, but I don't want to look like a fool by turning around. By the time we reach the top, I'm at an impasse.

"So…um, did you decide on a room?" I ask. I avoid eye contact at all costs, attempting to focus on the framed artwork placed strategically on the wall.

"Yep." Edward points down the hall. "Last room on the left. If that's okay. It had the best view."

"Yeah, sure. It's all yours. The adjacent bathroom is pretty big, and there's plenty of closet space."

_And it's next to my room, so if you start sleepwalking, I can't be held accountable for anything that happens._

We tread several more feet and then there's an uncomfortable pause as we stand near his chosen room. Do I say goodnight? Do I offer a hug? Do I throw him against the wall and have my way with him?

"Well…tomorrow is your first day. Are you excited?"

Edward's hand slightly trembles at my directed question. "You bet." Somehow, his confidence seems a bit shaky. I chalk it up to nerves.

I give him a quick pat on the arm. "You'll do great. Jess already set up some appointments for us, so just be prepared to leave first thing in the morning. Can you be ready by six?"

Nodding, Edward's smile is grim, but his tone states otherwise. "Of course."

"Okay. Well...goodnight, Edward."

"Goodnight, Bella. Sweet dreams."

I smile and walk quietly to my master bedroom, when Edward softy calls out my name.

"Bella?"

I turn around, one hand resting on the doorway. "Yes?"

"I just wanted you to know…this is a big house. I got lost. Earlier today. When I was searching for a room."

I shrug my shoulders. "Yeah?"

"So…just do me a favor. Keep it down tonight, will you? I've got a big day tomorrow and I noticed you bought new batteries…"

Edward winks, turns the corner, and it's exactly 2.5 seconds before my jaw literally hits the floor.

Searching for a room. Nightstand. New batteries.

Oh hell.

My vibrator!

My face drains of all color as my soul attempts to melt in between the planks of the hardwood floor. I cough, stand up straight, and head directly into my room, shutting the door quietly. I'm a grown woman. I have nothing to be ashamed of.

_In fact, tonight, I was going to be putting the whole thing behind me._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**

**PS: Huge shout-out to Sunflower Fran for pimping me out! I'd stand on the corner all night for you woman!**

**Super huge thanks to all of you readers/reviewers! Apparently, some of you really are just in it for the malarkey! :D**

_***Note: All Chaps less than 1,000 words + several updates a week! Can't post everyday, but I'll keep it steady. Thanks for understanding!_


	6. Like a Bird, Plucked For the Very First

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Like a Bird, Plucked For the Very First Time**

_You smell even better asleep than you do when you're awake._

That is the message I find on my foggy mirror when I step out of the shower.

I laugh out loud, and though a part of me should have been concerned why Edward was such a creeper, I question as to why he didn't just open the shower door.

After getting dressed, I make my way downstairs to find Edward making a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Edward."

He turns around and my eyes are instantly blinded. "Good morning, Bella."

Dressed in a full iridescent suit that reflected every color of the rainbow, Edward takes another sip of coffee. I almost make a comment, but then I realize, I am so out of my league. Here Edward was, obviously wearing the latest trend and I was out of the loop. Missing out on Fashion Week had been my downfall.

"You look great," I compliment him.

"Thanks. You as well. Did you enjoy your shower?" Edward snorts and I push him aside to find a coffee mug.

"Funny. You know, you don't have to go sneaking around my house just to see me naked. You're going to great lengths for no reason."

"Bella, I thought we discussed this. Your sexual harassment is getting out of hand." Clicking his tongue, Edward turns to the side to add more creamer.

"Are you calling me a dirty whore?" I ask in shock. The nerve of some people.

Shaking his head, Edward explains. "Quite the contrary. I never insinuated you were dirty. In fact, I think you are a very clean whore. Please, don't put words in my mouth. It's insulting."

Before I can refute my reputation, a loud horn beeps outside. "That's us. All ready?"

Edward nods, grabbing an official black professional binder and shoulder bag off of the counter.

"What's that?" I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"Supplies." Edward lifts up the binder. "This is a style portfolio for you I've composed for when we go shopping. That way, I already know what to search for. Size four, correct?"

I nod, instantly impressed by his research. Jess was dead wrong. Edward did have a portfolio; he actually took steps to build one personally for me.

I smile, genuinely pleased by his forethought.

In fact, there is zero concern about the blue feather peeking out from the edge.

* * *

The Versace store in Beverly Hills is our first stop. Edward and I climb our way out of the black Bentley and I warn my driver, Tyler, we may take a while. He waves us off as we walk leisurely into the store, stealing glances through the glossy windows. Mannequins are dressed in the most exquisite gowns, and I find my anticipation growing by the minute.

"Bella, dah-ling, it's so wonderful to see you again." The manager, Victoria, kisses both of my cheeks before doing a double-take towards Edward. "Well, hello there. And you are?"

Edward formally introduces himself. "I'm Edward Cullen, Miss Swan's new stylist."

"My, my. I must say, that's some suit you're wearing. I can't quite name the label. Is it Dolce? Hugo Boss? Prada?"

Edward beams at the compliment. "Goodwill."

There's exactly five seconds of complete silence before Victoria and all of her red hair dramatically starts laughing, knee-slap and all. She wiggles a finger at him, pointing. "That's a good one. He's funny, Bella, make sure you keep him around. Goodwill!" She chuckles again as Edward stares at her in confusion.

"Well, I can see you won't be needing my assistance. I'll be in the back if you have any questions. I'll be locking the doors now. The store is closed especially for you, so please, take your time." The clicking of her heels fades as she sashays towards her office.

I glance around, soaking in all of the gorgeous couture. "Alright, Edward, what do you suggest? My first mission is for the Academy Awards. I _have _to wear something spectacular. Leah's choice last year didn't even have me in the top ten."

Edward appears in thought before walking over to garments hung on the wall. He touches each one lightly before moving over to the next. "No…no…no…"

I pull one beautiful black gown off the hanger and hold it in front of me. The soft fabric and deep V-neck falls gently against my skin. "What about this one?"

"Absolutely not. Listen, Bella. Do you trust me?"

"I do."

"Then value my opinion. You want to look like everyone else, then by all means, purchase the dress. But I have bigger plans for you. Plans that include the front of magazine covers and designer contracts." Edward's green eyes are more serious than I had ever seen. "You are my muse, Bella. Let me do my job."

I'm in such awe of his passion, I immediately hang the gown back onto the wall. I wait patiently as Edward browses through every dress, meticulously touching each one. The fabrics fall through his hands. He squints his eyes, feeling the silk here, measuring the length there. He is no doubt a professional.

A formal one shouldered turquoise gown catches his attention. He immediately holds it up, assessing the metallic bodice and slight cut-out on the side. Clutching the dress delicately, he walks toward me. "This is the one. Try it on."

I squeal, already mesmerized with his choice. I start to walk towards the dressing room when Edward stops me. "Where are you going?"

"To the dressing room."

"Over here." Pointing to a large, stepping pedestal surrounded by mirrors, Edward strolls in that direction. "It's just us, Bella. Unlike you, I'm a professional. I promise not to be seduced by your long legs and shapely breasts."

I roll my eyes and my casual strapless dress falls to the floor. I'm too shy to glance at Edward, to see what he thinks, but he is acting as if nothing has changed. He unzips the luxurious gown and I step into it, holding onto his shoulders for support. With quick adjustments, I open my eyes and stare into the mirror.

Stunning. It is beyond my wildest dreams.

Edward walks away, picking his black bag off the floor as I continue to stare at myself. "What are you doing?"

"Making adjustments." Rummaging through his bag, Edward pulls out a pair of scissors.

"You can't do that!" My face is crimson red as Edward kneels down and opens the offensive weapon.

"This is the gown you want, correct?" As I nod, I hear the horrific murder of a fifteen thousand dollar dress being destroyed. "Then it's yours to fix. Don't worry, Bella. I've got this under control. Just close your eyes."

I listen to the sound of more cutting. Tiny objects falling onto the floor. The touch of hot glue burning my skin.

"All done." It takes several moments of courage before I dare to open my eyes.

I'm still in the dark when I hear the horrifying scream of Victoria in the background.

I can't yell back at her because I'm in such shock at my appearance. Instead, I'm just grateful that I'm wearing panties.

_That ought to slow the urine down a tad._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**

_Currently Reading: Unhinged by Postapocalypticdepository. I would say how amazing this story is, but she only paid me 5 bucks for this shout-out, so…_

_Pic of Bella's dress on profile (the original, not Edward's creation, lol)_


	7. He Butter Not Mess This Up

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: He Butter Not Mess This Up**

"No! What are you doing? Put it down! Put the glue down!"

Victoria's shrieks are raising in octave levels the closer she walks towards us. Edward immediately drops his tools as I stand there mortified.

"Bella…you look…"

My facial expression is that of a mortified woman. I looked so awful Rice Krispies wouldn't even talk to me.

"AMAZING!" Victoria grins and claps her hands in rapid, cheerful repetition. "Absolutely spectacular! Edward, don't you dare lay another hand on her. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect! My goodness, Edward, I thought you were a stylist, not a designer. Wait until Versace hears about this! She's going to be shocked. Do you hear me, dah-ling? Absolutely shocked!"

Victoria delicately touches each aspect of the gown. "I mean, look at the detailing. The butterfly adjacent to your breast. The feathers flowing out from every angle. And the sequins? I adore the sequins. The way they are placed all over your rear? Magnificent! Are those Christmas lights lining the bottom?"

"Wireless LED lights," Edward explains, holding up a small black box. "I control them with this remote."

"Fabulous, just-"

Edward coughs slightly and Victoria halts her speech. "What do you think Bella?"

I stare at my reflection in the mirror and honestly, I don't _get _it. My original dress was absolutely fine, but now, I look like a clown attacked me in the back of an alley. And is that bubble wrap around my neck? "I…"

"Listen, Bella, I know this is not mainstream," Edward answers, attempting to comfort me. "But that's okay. You are breaking down fashion barriers. Take the leap of faith. You are not trying to become fashionable. You are trying to become couture. Trust me, _everyone _is going to be talking about this. _Everyone_."

_That's exactly what I am afraid of._

"Now, let's get this masterpiece off of you. We have plenty more shopping to do today!"

In all of the ruckus, I put back on my casual dress as Edward cleans up his supplies and Victoria hangs the gown in a garment bag.

"Okay, you're all set, Bella. I'll bill your accountant. If you need any sizing adjustments made, just call us back and we'll send someone over to you immediately. But I think Edward has you covered."

A swift unlocking of the doors and we are free to escape.

I am just glad to be free out of the building, attempting to wrap my head around what just happened as Edward freezes in his steps. "Hold on, Bella. I'll be right back. I forgot my scissors on the table."

I shrug as Tyler opens the car door for me. I had to keep in mind that despite my hesitations, Edward knew fashion. This was no time to cry. No time to lose my cool. I don't want to be the kind of person who holds it all together then goes home and microwaves a hamster.

No, that's wrong.

My microwave broke a month ago.

* * *

"A little overkill, don't cha think?" Edward glares at Victoria, as she straightens her register and business cards.

"All you had to do was pick out a dress! Feathers, Edward? Lights! Wait until your sister Alice finds out about this, she is going to kill you. I hope she buries your body in the bubble wrap you strangled Bella with. That poor girl. She is going to be a laughing stock."

Edward smirks, taking a cigarette out of his suit and lighting it up. "She can't fire me. It's in my contract. Besides, once this year is over, I'll have paid my debt and I can return to New York a free man. No more watching my back. What was I supposed to do? Turn down the opportunity? Bella Swan fell in my lap like an angel. Now, all my problems are solved."

"I understand you need the money, but do you honestly have to ruin her reputation?" Victoria sighs. "This is a bad idea, Edward. I like Bella. She doesn't deserve this."

"I'm not trying to ruin her reputation. She looked fantastic. I know what I'm doing. See?" Edward opens the black portfolio, showing Victoria the pages of couture styles and designer how-to book.

"That's a Halloween costume design book! And you can't mix fifty pages into one outfit! You are going to need a heck of a lot more books, you nimwit! Get out of my store! I'm calling Alice right now. Just you wait…"

Edward takes another drag off of his lung-killer and drops it into the vase that adorns the counter.

Victoria is wrong. Edward knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't need Victoria's opinion. And as for Alice, she could threaten him all she wanted. She tried to straighten out his ways, but look how far that had gotten him. Wiping crap off the floor for minimum wage while she attended the design school of her dreams.

No, Edward had this all under control.

Bella _was_ his muse. He wasn't lying about that. But he had a long ways to go. There were so many sequins and so little time.

Quite frankly, he was sick of everyone questioning his expertise. Victoria and the lights. Bella and the potatoes. There was so much criticism he didn't know where to starch.

Edward huffed, figuring there was no use in trying to make himself a butter person.

_I yam what I yam._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**

_***No more potato jokes, I swear. I'm done. I wouldn't want my readers to get boiling mad... :D_


	8. Incest Is Only Illegal If You Get Caught

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Incest Is Only Illegal If You Get Caught**

Jessica meets Edward and I at The Bistro on Royal Avenue before we continue our quest shopping for my wardrobe. I'm trying to convince her the omelets are to-die-for and the battle about suicidal eggs ends with Ariana being fed grapes by Edward. I swear, she is purposefully licking his hand with her tongue. What a pervert.

"How's the shopping going?" Jess asks nonchalantly.

_Fine. Just fine. If you like being the lovechild of a Christmas tree and a dead butterfly…_

"Great," Edward chimes in. "Bella is really open to changing her image. She's going to knock the socks off of everyone."

I take a loud slurp of my orange juice and pretend to be too occupied to join in on the conversation.

"That's awesome, Bells!" Jessica nods in approval. "I'm glad-"

Edward's phone rings loudly in the middle of our conversation. He fumbles as the song '_I Kissed a Girl_' by Katy Perry plays continuously. "Excuse me, ladies, I have to take this."

There's only one person at that table who looks more forlorn than I do and she's too busy digging up her nose for treasure.

"Oh my gosh!" I hiss towards Jess. "I knew it! I knew he had a girlfriend. You hear that, Ariana? He's a taken man. So you can stop with your slutty advances."

"BELLA!" Jess reprimands me with a slap on my hand. "Will you cut it out? Who said that was his girlfriend? Geez, you jump to conclusions too quickly. Besides, why do you care?"

I sulked back into the chair. "I don't. I'm just saying, he should stop the flirting with me if he has a girlfriend. I'm not the kind of person who wants to be the 'other woman.' Why else would he have that ringtone?"

Jess rolls her eyes and takes another bite of her pancakes. "Maybe because it's a great song. Maybe it's because-"

I kick Jessica underneath the table as Edward starts to walk back to the table. He seems a bit agitated and plops into his chair with a huff.

"Something wrong?" I ask in concern. _Girlfriend get hit by a bus? 'Cause I can totally send flowers. Or another bus._

"It's my sister. Alice. She's coming into town. To see me."

"Edward, that's wonderful. She's more than welcome to stay with us."

"I…don't think that's possible," Edward complains. "She's a lot to handle."

I shrug. "It'll be fun. So how old is she? What does she do? Tell me about her."

"She's nineteen, three years younger than I am. She's in design school and she's the bossiest female I have ever met. You two will get along great."

"Har. Har." I reply sarcastically. "Why do I get the feeling you're not too fond of your sibling?"

"Have you ever known someone who tried to pry into every aspect of your life? They think they know what's best for you but they have no real grasp on reality? And no matter what you do, you'll never please them?"

An image of my father pops instantly into my head. "Yes."

"Then I'm hoping you'll understand. That's my sister Alice."

It's at that moment I totally get where Edward is coming from. It sucks having family members try to infiltrate their beliefs on you. Finally, I get a sense of who Edward truly is and I began to feel a bit of sympathy for him.

Except for one little question.

"Um, Edward?" I twist my napkin into knots and glance at the wall for support. "Why…why do you have that ringtone? For your sister? I mean, I'm not judging you or anything. Maybe you're into kinky shit and if kissing your sister gets your jollies off, then so be it. I'm cool with that. Ain't nothing wrong with a little West Virginia lovin'. It's just that incest is illegal here in California and I don't want to harbor fugitives. I mean, I'll do what I can, but if the bail goes over a million dollars, I'm going to have to deduct it from your paycheck and I can't bail you out after ten 'cause I need my beauty sleep and I'm sure my mornings are pretty busy too…"

Edward looks at me in shock before bursting into laughter. "Are you serious? You should see your face right now!" Edward's chuckles die down with a pounded fist onto the table.

"Sheesh, Bella. She's a lesbian. The ringtone is just a joke."

"Oh."

Jess nudges me with her painfully, bony elbow and the glare I give her is enough to melt an iceberg. Just not the iceberg for the Titanic because that was a tragedy. Poor Leonardo DiCaprio. That would have sucked if that had happened in real life…

As Edward and I begin to discuss which store to go to next, Ariana opens her perk, little mouth for another grape.

I'm really proud of myself. I don't plot her ultimate demise. I don't call her harsh names like cockblocker and I avoid poisoning her grapes with Clorox.

Even when Jess screams and puts my hand down to stop me from cutting off Ariana's pigtails, I let her.

See? That means I'm maturing.

I mean, what would I look like, cutting off a three year-old's hair like a crazy person?

Ridiculous.

_That's why I'm reaching for Edward's lighter._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**

_Edward's reasoning/background is going to be explained. Hang tight, people. He's not a bad guy. This is a comedy, remember?_

_New Banner on profile! :D_

_Thank you to all of you lovely readers and the 100__th__ reviewer __ASlover__! I don't know if that means "ass-lover" or if all of you potato-whores plotted specifically just so she could be number 100. I'm on to you…_


	9. Hook, Line, and Sinker

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Hook, Line, and Sinker**

If this is what sex is like with Edward, I think its best that my vibrator and I stay completely monogamous.

"Shove it in, Bella!"

"I am!"

"You need to pull!"

"If you pushed harder, I wouldn't need to!"

The employees in the store are smiling at me, but I know what they're thinking. It's that look of pity, like the one you get when your pants are unzipped but no one wants to tell you. My rear can't possibly fit into these jeans, but that doesn't stop Edward from trying. He's pulling and tugging and telling me to jump up and down and then insists on telling me how fat the omelets have made me.

All I want to do is stuff eggs down his throat until chickens come out the other end.

Edward stands there, panting after our exhausting excursion, admiring his handiwork. "There! How do they fit?"

"Great, Edward. You can barely notice the muffin top. In fact, I think those red lines are _supposed _to be there." My irritation has reached new levels, and I can barely breathe. My lungs are gasping for air, and I'm refusing to give them oxygen. I suppose this is what it's like when you take a goldfish out of the water to pet it.

_Sorry, Bait. You were well loved._

It takes all of my strength to unbutton the pants and the grunt that leaves me is completely unladylike. "That's it, Edward. I am putting my foot down. No to the jeans. No to the yellow boa. No to the pimp hat. No. No. NO!"

I, Bella Swan, have been charged with fashion murder in the third degree. That's what the Style Cops will say on the Celebrity Network when they get ahold of this getup. To avoid the inevitable, the mocking ends now.

"I'm done, Edward. This is the sixth store we've been to. I'm tired, my legs hurt, and my ass swallowed my thong two hours ago. If I try on one more pair of too-small jeans, my vagina is going to get a yeast infection that not even the Pillsbury Boy can bake at 350 degrees. So, please, do me a favor and peel me out of this snakeskin shirt."

Edward appears to be even more frustrated than I am and removes the shirt over my head. Plopping down on the nearest chair, he argues with my opinion. "Bella, what is the matter? Every time I give an option, you shut it down. 'This is too small' or 'the shirt is too bright' or 'it's a maternity dress, what do I look like, a freaking whale?' You shouldn't have hired me if you were going to complain about everything!"

Huffing, I straighten my loose strands and sit beside him. "Edward, you have great style. It's just that…maybe they don't look great on me. I'm a plain Jane. This avant-garde, couture fashion just feels odd on my body type. I don't know. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings. I know you're doing the best you can."

"Bella, I want you to take a look at something." Edward pulls out his professional binder, turning to the back section. "I didn't want to show you this, because, well, I wanted you to trust my expertise. But maybe you need a little visual stimulation. Do you see these women? They are beautiful. What makes them stand out is not their hair, nor the makeup. It's the dress made out of newspaper. Or the jeans with Disney stickers placed strategically just in the right spots. And lastly, do you notice this one? Look at her. The way the trash bag is draped just so over her breasts? That's what I envision you in. _This _is how you are meant to appear to the public. You are a star now, Bella Swan, but when I'm finished with you, you will be an _icon_."

His inspiring words sweep over me like a glass of wine on a virgin's prom night. I soak it all in, the vision he has for me. He's right. Dammit, he's right! It's not enough that I dress the part, I have to _be_ the part. Millions of teens all over the world admire me from afar. They have my pictures on their bedroom walls. Maybe under their pillow. Probably in the shower too. I won't judge. But I have a duty as an actress. And I most certainly haven't been doing my job.

"Get it all." I stand up, grabbing my purse, and picking up several items of clothing.

"What?" Edward continues to sit, looking puzzled.

"Get it all. I trust you, Edward. I trust you, wholeheartedly. You've convinced me. That portfolio of yours was all I needed to see to know that you have a real vested interest in me and my image. Get the other employees. We've got a lot of bags to carry."

The grin on Edward's face is enough to get me through two nights with just my hands.

"You heard the lady!" Edward starts pointing and giving random directions. "Make sure you grab that boa! Don't forget the Hello Kitty watch. Hold on, put the sweatpants and the tutu together. Wait, people wait! If you drag the go-go boots, I'm never going to be able to glue the fur on…"

As Tyler loads the car, I imagine how many Best Dressed lists I'm going to make. The chaos surrounding me is so busy, I never hear the conversation between two female employees.

"_Bella Swan sure is a generous celebrity. I mean, for her to donate her time to the Fashion Fail Charity Show? That's inspiring."_

"_Tell me about it. Did you see those photos from last year's contest that her stylist had? She's going to win this year for sure!"_

Edward is so thrilled with my purchases, he brings me into his arms and swings me around in the air.

The feeling is so overwhelming, I start to lose my breath again. His eyes are piercing into my own, and the seconds between us seem to linger for an eternity.

So much so, that when our lips finally do meet, I'm already out of oxygen.

_Little Bait, is that you? _

_Can you herr me? _

_Sorry for suffocating you. And for frying you. _

_If it means anything, you were the best fishy an eight year-old could have ever had. _

_It wasn't my intention to krill you. _

_After all, Dad ate all the hot sauce before I was even fin-ished._

_Pretty damned shellfish, I'd say…_

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**


	10. Ma'am, Please Don't Waste Public Service

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Ma'am, Please Don't Waste Public Services for Nonsense**

His kiss is beyond anything I had ever imagined. While part of me is shocked, the other part is in a complete daze. His tongue straddles on the fine line between complete masculinity and the sweet taste of honey. Unknowingly, I wrap myself around him, inhaling his aroma while trying to remind myself I'm still in public.

Pulling back, Edward laughs, and the sound of it is completely charming.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Edward chuckles, the light in his eyes gleams at my moistened lips.

I shrug, my mouth still tingling. "First of all, you kissed me, so quit with the whole sexual harassment speech. Secondly, if you think this is your way of getting a raise… consider it done."

Pushing the tendrils of my hair behind my ear, Edward leans in closer. "I have a better idea."

His breath brushes across my face, and I can feel my knees weakening by the moment. "Yeah?"

_You wanna throw me down on the pavement and have your way with me?_

_I mean, I'll have to get a blanket first, but yeah, I'm down…_

Grasping my hand, Edward pulls me into the waiting car, heaving me down into his lap. Piles of bags tumble over, and I giggle like a schoolgirl who has lost her mind.

_A little sexy, a lot like a maniac._

His fingers strum beneath my hair, particularly the back of my neck. My nerves are so bundled I can't think clearly.

And then I feel it.

His erection, pressing me in the leg, causes me to move in closer. I grind against him, the heat between my legs rising in temperature in accordance with his stare. The pivot of my hips hits _the exact spot _and Edward groans in a sound that turned me on incessantly. Our lips connect again, and even though I realize we are moving way too fast, I can't find it within me to stop. His hands cup my bottom, giving it a slight squeeze, as the car takes off at a steady speed.

The uncontrollable urge to touch every part of his delicious body does not allude him. His tongue goes deeper, his hands grope me harder. We kiss feverously, as if there was not enough time in the world to explore this new turn in our…_whatever this was. _The leather seat squeaks at Edward attempts to adjust our bodies, and my fingers run through his hair, clutching hard enough I thought he would stop me.

_I need to stop…_

_Too much…_

_We can't…_

The internal battle from within is shut up instantly by my hormones. His fingers move slowly up my thigh and I still feel as if I'm going to fall at any second.

_Get it together, Bella. If you faint, you never see his cock and how awful would that be? It'll just be you and that stupid fish, Bait, hanging out in Neverland while the EMT performs CPR on your dying corpse, wondering why the hell your legs are wet._

His luscious lips suck on my neck, and I'm moaning as his feather-light touches trail leisurely up to my sweet spot.

"You smell so damn good, Bella." I instantly melt at his husky voice. This is the Edward I don't know. The one I only have small glimpse of, the one I found smoking cigarettes and desecrating the side of buildings. His hands reach the inside of my lace thong and he's torturing me, making small circles around my area, tickling, but never fully touching.

"Please?" My voice is so small, it almost sounds like a purr.

Several wet licks just below my earlobe and I whimper just as he rubs my clitoris. I'm about to lose it and he's barely even started. The bitter torment continues until he enters two fingers simultaneously.

"Fuck, Edward, don't stop, please…"

The thrust of his hand pumps at a rhythm that I move in harmony with, and somehow, I try not to scream as my hair creates a curtain between us. I grip my fists tightly into his chaotic mane, cursing obscenities no decent woman would ever utter in public. His eyes blazed with a passion, holding me in place with just his stare.

The fire burns through me, the vibration starting to come in waves.

"Come for me, Bella!" His seductive tone rocks me into an abyss, a never-ending hole where I'm drowning as my muscles contract around him. My muffled screams are hidden within his shoulder, each second getting louder with every tremble.

Fuck.

I lay panting; refusing to move, denying my pride any source of forgiveness.

Just as I get the courage to look up, half-expecting to see a smirk on Edward's face, but the deadened look in his eyes scare me.

"Edward?"

He sits still for a moment. The silence between us is unbearable.

"Bella. We need to talk."

Now, I was no relationship expert, but the sound of his voice and his motionless body told me that whatever he had to discuss, was certainly not good. I want to be mad at him, for ruining my bliss, for not just letting me be.

Instead, I whisper a small 'okay' and take a deep breath.

I just hoped whatever he had to say didn't ruin my vibe.

_Otherwise, there was no way the EMTs were going to save me from this one._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**

_Whew, so who enjoyed the smexy scene?_

_Is Edward finally fessin' up? _

_Why in the heck am I writing past 2am?!_


	11. Vaglexia Is Not A Real Condition

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Vaglexia Is Not A Real Condition**

Okay, do not panic.

If there's anything I have learned from the film business, it's to stay calm at all times.

I mean four days isn't that long. It's not like he's abandoned me. More like tip-toeing. Leaving me notes. Rushing out of a room when I walk in. Faking illnesses.

One minute, we're in a limo and my vagina is giving me high fives for finally getting off without the use of a mechanical toy, and then the next, Edward has clammed up. States he's not feeling well, and is silent for the rest of the day. Excuses, excuses. All he had to do was unzip his pants. Was that too much to ask?

Sighing, I read over a script my agent has sent me, but all of the words are blurring together. That and my poor hormones are kind of messing with my head. It's like I have vagina dyslexia. Vaglexia?

Boy, wait until I show up at the doctor's office with that term. There weren't enough PhDs in the world that would be able to diagnosis me.

_Bella, what seems to be the problem?_

_Well, Dr. Aro, my incredibly hot stylist left me hanging in the middle of a rendezvous and now I can't think straight. What do I do? Take pills?_

_No._

_Can you do surgery?_

_No._

_What the hell am I supposed to do?_

_Bend over._

That doctor always was a quack. Since when did people need a pelvic exam for a common cold?

I toss my papers down in frustration when the chiming of the doorbell rings. The incessant tone sounds throughout the house and it takes me several minutes to reach the front door.

A young woman with a petite frame stands holding several bags of luggage. She beams at me, grinning from ear to ear. "Bella Swan?"

"Yes?" I question with uncertainty. I had to be extra careful. Being a celebrity, wacky people tended to show up every once in a while. How they got through the security guards was beyond me. _Probably bribed them with donuts. _

"Hi!" Before I can react, she drops her bags and swoops me into a large hug, breaking my ribs one by one. The crazy ones were always short and strong. A deadly combination.

"I'm Alice, Edward's sister!" She took two steps forward, unaware of personal boundaries. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe I'm here! Your house is gorgeous. Wow! Is that real gold? Look at all of the chandeliers…"

_Why, yes, come on in. Make yourself at home. I'm sorry, I forgot to ask you if you needed anything. __Hor __d'oeuvres__? Coffee? My left kidney? _

Pushing her sunglasses back on her short, brunette curls, her smile widens as she soaks the new environment in. "I hope Edward told you I was coming. I swear, that brother of mine-"

Before she can continue, a deep cough in the background alerts us that Edward is behind us. "Alice."

"Edward! Look at you!" Alice squeals, obviously excited at seeing her sibling. I could only imagine that her joy wasn't being reciprocated by her brother. "I can't believe you are employed by _the _Bella Swan! How lucky are you? Sheesh. I never get breaks like this. I gotta tell you, Bella, if there's anyone in the world who can clean-"

"Alice!" Edward abruptly interrupts her in the middle of statement, grabbing her arm profusely. "Excuse us, Bella."

Leading his sister into the kitchen, I shrug and scoot Alice's belongings to the side.

_You said what?_

_Why on earth would you…_

_Edward, how many times do I have to tell you…_

The conversation goes from quiet whispers to erratic shrieks from Alice. Not wanting to interfere in family matters, I sit on the plush sofa and admire my toe polish. I'm contemplating changing salons when a red-faced Edward is being dragged by Alice into the living room.

Tapping her foot on the floor in an irritated manner, Alice pushes Edward forward, nearly knocking him onto me. "Now! You tell her right now, or I swear on all that's Givenchy, I will do it myself!"

Edward's fingers are twisting uncomfortably as Alice begins pacing the floor and ranting in incoherent sentences. "It all makes sense now. You rushing from New York without a word. The mysterious message from our cousin Victoria- I knew I should have called her back!"

"Edward?" I look up at him, and the agony on his face is more than I can bear. It was like the time I slipped in the shower and no one had been there to help me up. Five hours later, Jess showed up out of the blue and by that time, my nipples were so shriveled from the cold, I had contemplated on eating them like raisins for survival.

It was a rough day, to say the least.

"Bella, I have a confession."

There's a million thoughts running through my head, none of them pleasant. Edward was an axe murderer. Edward was in the witness protection program after saving an Amish girl from her guarded home. And worst of all, Edward was gay. My vagina would never again see the light of day. Part of me plotted and wondered if Dr. Aro had any openings.

"I…um…I lied to you…." His feet shift from side to side, like a child getting caught stealing candy. I did that once. Let's just say that snatching licorice from a scary man in a white van parked on the side of the road is not a good idea.

"About…" Alice nudges him, prompting him to continue.

Edward huffs, paying special attention to the marble floor. "I, um, I'm not stylist."

I laugh out loud, brushing off his so-called confession. "Goodness, Edward, I _know _that! I'm the one that hired you, remember? "

"I know. Argh! I can't freaking do this!" Edward twists his hands, each movement turning them into a crimson color. "Ummm, please don't hate me okay? Just think. Remember when you met me?"

_Oh, I remember. All that sexiness rolled up into one package. I'd send you on a one way flight to Vagina Town._

"Okay. Good. Remember, remember how you kept asking if I would take the job? And I kept refusing because, well…because…never mind. Okay, just think back to what I was wearing."

Sex hair. Eyes the color of emeralds. Lips I wanted to rip off and attach to my own…

_Get it together, Bella. He said think of what he was wearing. Clothes. Clothes. Shirt? No. Jeans? No._

_Dark blue overalls._

_Dirty clunky boots._

In the midst of my musings, I scream in a tormenting pitch. It all made sense now.

"OH MY GOD!"

"I know, Bella, just listen-"

"I knew it! I knew it!" I jump up from my seat, yelling at the top of my lungs. "You're a Prada model! That whole dirty-grunge advertising? He's been selling that line of clothes all season! How could I not see it? Right in front of my eyes. You sly fox, you…"

Alice moans, Edward slaps his hand to his forehead, and I smile, pretty pleased with myself.

Poor Edward was so beside himself, trying to hide his true identity. With my smarts, I had cracked the code.

Well, my physician Aro could stick his stethoscope up his own hole. My Vaglexia was cured, and now Edward and I could continue where we left off.

_911? Someone call the doctor. I need a cockatitis, stat!_

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**


	12. Rye Is This So Hard?

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Rye Is This So Hard?**

There's always a sense of foreshadowing that happens when the breadsticks arrive.

Like a movie in slow-motion, you know that the big event is going to transpire next, but the exact moment is left up to the music.

That's exactly how I felt at dinner on Saturday night, surrounded by Jessica, Edward, and Alice. Edward whispers silently to Alice, but she shakes her head repeatedly. _Let it go,_ she mumbles.

But I am barely listening, for all of my attention is on how many breadsticks Jess can possibly fit into her mouth. I mean, inwardly, I'm rooting for her, but as movies typically go, the plot thickens.

Edward sips his water, Alice is fumbling with her napkin, and I contemplate on exactly how this event is going to go down. Sitting next to Jess, I should be the one to save her, but let's face it, if I perform the Heimlich maneuver all I would end up doing is caressing her boobs and she said not to do that anymore. Edward looks fast, but he's blocked in by Alice, and there's no way for him to get over here in time.

Alice is strong, but she's so tiny, Jess will end up getting the vagina pounding of her life.

My best friend is going to die over bread.

It's sad, really, but in the end, I don't feel sorry for her. You sacrifice your life for garlic bread, but never buttery breadsticks. Her lesson is a hard one to learn.

She attempts to join in on the conversation, the violinist in the background hits a high note, and BAM! Just like that, the woman is going down.

The choking sound that comes out of her is humorous. Almost lifelike. I squeeze a lemon slice into my drink as people rush around, pushing one another out of the way. Drops of liquid spill on my dress, and I'm more irritated about my clothes than her current predicament.

Edward yells from the table. "Jam it, people! Someone help her! She's going to be toast!"

Alice pushes the drinks to the side. "Help! We knead help! Oh gosh, what are you wheating for?"

The chaos around me blurs as I think of a eulogy for her funeral. _She was a good friend, _I'd say. _No matter how many times I sent her to the store for gummy bears, she always came back with gummy worms. Now that I think about it, she wasn't a very good assistant at all. In truth, the breadsticks were the best thing that ever happened to her. Now I won't have to fire her. By the way, is anyone looking for a job?_

I imagine that wouldn't go over well with family. I'd have to work out a few kinks.

"My..._cough…_goodness!" Jess wheezes for a few gasps of air. The waitress makes sure she's okay as Edward and Alice sit back in their seats. "I…_cough…_can't believe I did that!"

I can. The number of breadsticks versus the circumference of your mouth should have warned you death was on the horizon.

Jess hacks one last time and slaps me on the shoulder. "Thanks a lot, friend! I could barely breathe and here you are, playing with fruit! Now I know who to call when I need help!" She rolls her eyes and the sarcasm on her face is reflected in volumes.

"Uh, yeah, you call the ambulance," I answer, shrugging. "What am I supposed to do? I don't know how to save you, and I'm not trained in CPR. We had to split ways eventually, Jess. Today was as good as any other."

Jess stares at me in shock. "What about Mike? What about Ariana? You'd let my family suffer?"

"I think she would," Alice pipes in.

"Wouldn't put it past her," Edward adds.

I think about it for a moment, about a widowed husband and a motherless child. The traumatic story of a family torn to pieces because I didn't perform my civilian duty.

"Of course not, Jess. What kind of monster do you think I am?" I open my mouth in horror.

"Well, good. I was beginning to think you didn't care."

I pat Jess on her shoulder, reaffirming my friendship. "Jessica Stanley, after all of these years, after all that we've been through, I hope you don't think that Mike and Ariana don't mean the world to me. They are my family too. I'd never let them suffer."

"Thank you, Bella. That means a lot."

"Of course, dear," I reply. "After all, eHarmony matches millions of couples every day. I'd find Ariana a new mother in no time!"

When three ice cubes from three different directions smack me in the face, I wonder when exactly this conversation took a wrong turn.

* * *

Alice says goodnight and I tiptoe down the hall to Edward's room. I knock as a warning on the door, but immediately come in. I'm doing the best I can to see the man naked, and if barging in is what I have to do, then so be it.

"Edward?"

He is sitting on his bed, in nothing but boxers, flipping through magazines. It's enough to make me want to jump him, but I resist temptation and sit next to him.

"Hey."

Edward closes his magazines and looks towards me with beautiful, troubled eyes.

"Bella, about earlier today-"

I already know what he's attempting to apologize for. My fingers quiet his lips and I give him my earnest thoughts. "Edward, it's okay. I don't care that you're not a real college student. When you told me Alice was in design school, I should have clicked the pieces together. You were there visiting her."

"But-" He mumbles, trying to speak through my fingers.

"Listen, I don't care who you are or what you do. If anything, it makes me appreciate you more that you came all this way just to help a complete stranger. I'm grateful to have you here. So please, no more apologizing. It doesn't matter, Edward. It doesn't matter."

Edward's shoulders slump. "You say that now, but…but what if I'm the bad guy?"

"Are you a serial killer?"

Edward pauses, then a sheepish smile crosses his face. "Only for Fruity Pebbles."

I giggle, tossing a pillow his way. We tumble around, wisps of my hair falling onto his face.

In the movie industry, there's horror films, the kind where people choke on unsuspecting loafs of bread. Then there's the romantic comedies, the motion picture where the woman falls in love way too soon by a stranger's charm.

I was becoming that gullible woman, swept off of her feet by a man whose facial hair tickled me when he laughed.

There was no director shouting 'Lights!Camera!Action!' No one yelled 'Cut! There was no second take or a quick wardrobe change.

In this moment, Edward engulfed my every thought. With his body entangled around mine, I kiss his soft lips and play with the locks of his hair. As much as I wanted to do more, the Academy Awards were tomorrow and I was already feeling the pressure.

"Are you ready for tomorrow? Big day ahead of us!" My heart beats a skip as the nominations for four awards sends my nerves into overdrive.

Edward nods enthusiastically. "I can't wait. You'll win everything and you'll look great doing it!"

I sigh, falling onto my back. "I'm so nervous, I can't think straight. I haven't even written any acceptance speeches."

As Edward rubs my arm gently, trying to relax me, I remember of all the people who I should thank.

First of all, I had to acknowledge my Dad. If I didn't, there would be death threats and ransom letters made from newspapers. The lengths he went through to get my attention were ridiculous.

Secondly, I would recognize Edward. I would let _everyone _on the planet know who had redesigned my dress.

The last person would be Jess. I didn't want her thinking I had left her out of the most important moment of my life.

"_Finally, I would like to thank my assistant, Jessica Angela Stanley. She wouldn't be here tonight without the fine staff from Masachari Restaurant. Without their dedication and quick actions, Jessica Angela Stanley would have lost her battle with eight breadsticks she so callously stuffed in her mouth. So this award is to you, Jessica Angela Stanley, aged 24, born on June 13__th__; may you live another day- bread-free and able to stuff as much dough into as many holes as possible."_

_She would loaf me forever._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**


	13. This Is Whisky Business

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: This Is Whisky Business**

I had two options, make a run for the border and see what all the fuss for real enchiladas was about.

Or…or I could stand here, listening to the hushed whispers of the media as I step my first foot out onto the red carpet.

I mean, Edward had made an excellent point- my first dress wasn't quite Academy Awards material. Instead, he surprised me with a new creation he had spent all night constructing.

The icing in my hair? Totally understandable. It went with the theme of the dress assembled out of cake.

The sprinkles? Debatable, but then again, avant-garde. I'm still on board.

Then came the whipped cream, the belt made out of Twizzlers that may or may not have been half-eaten, and miniature butter knives deliberately positioned every five inches.

This is what I deserve for allowing Edward to blindfold me and not letting me see the gown until I saw my reflection in the limousine window.

My main concerns were being stuffed into the trunk of a car and being abandoned without food, water, or resources.

Water, I could do without, but take away my cell phone and someone had to pay for their heinous crime.

I should have reconsidered my priorities.

The paparazzi shout my name, along with insults, that I ignore in order to smile as microphones and lenses are being shoved near my face.

Edward, dressed impeccably in a white tux, stands beside me, squeezing my hand for moral support.

Bone Givers, from the Celebrity Network, immediately harasses me for details. "My, my, Bella Swan, what a gown you are wearing! Who designed it? What inspired your new look?"

_Well, I got into a fight with a bowl of batter. I may have won the battle, but it is Betty Crocker who has lost the war._

I blush, pointing to Edward. "This one-of-a-kind design is from my stylist, Edward Cullen. He decided to take inspiration from Grandma's cupboards."

Notice how I specifically left myself out of the equation. I was taking no part of this fashion massacre. I was throwing Edward to the wolves and enjoying every minute of it.

"Well, he, ahem, certainly did just that. One moment, I think I see Angelina Jolie. Oh, Angie!"

Mr. Givers scampers off without a second thought. Jess and Alice appear out of the woodwork, clothed in beautiful, but simple gowns. How I envied them.

"Bella!" Jess hisses. "What on earth are you wearing?"

"Edward, I am going to kill you!" Alice threatens.

"I think she looks stunning," Edward retorts. "Do you even know how long it took me to make this?"

I think I can imagine. Consider in the amount of eggs and flour, I think that brings you to…four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Thirty-nine if you include the chocolate fountain pouring from my curls.

Before we can continue our debate, a cocky Emmett McCarty walks towards us, a slim model on his arm.

"Bella, how _delectable_ you look." He appraises me with no regard to his date.

Edward immediately steps forward, holding out his hand. "I'm Bella's stylist, her _date_. And you are?"

Emmett laughs. "You're joking, right? Emmett McCarty? Biggest action star in the world? Several top box office hits? You may know some of my movies. Thrill of the Road?"

Edward shrugs his shoulders. "No."

"Ending Earth?"

"Nope."

"Unnatural Beasts?"

"Never heard of it."

"You have got to be kidding me."

Edward's smirk lingers on the edge of his lips, and I know he's killing Emmett's self-esteem one movie title at a time. "Wait a second. Unnatural Beasts…hmm, is that the one where the guy saves the future from aliens?"

Emmett, by this time, is absolutely seething. "No, that was Tom Cruise."

"Then, no, I don't think I've ever seen one of your movies. Do they play at the Dollar Theater?"

Emmett is actually growling and turns his date away before he completely loses it. "Bella, I'll see you later. Good luck on your nominations."

"You as well," I wave, giggling. I joust Edward in the chest. "Really? Did you have to do that?"

Edward leads me to the Pavilion's grand entrance. "He was coming on to you. If anyone is going to be eating you around here, it's going to be me."

It takes several steps and assistance from Jess to regain my composure. Edward winks and I can only imagine how many ways I'd like for him to lick me over and over.

* * *

"And the Oscar for Actress in a Leading Role goes to….Bella Swan, for Entering Forever."

The applause thunders in my ears, but I tremble endlessly as my name is called in front of the nation. Edward kisses me passionately, before helping me onto the aisle to take center stage. I do my best to ignore Alice leaning over to dip her finger in the sugary confection.

I cautiously walk up each step, taking the golden statue from the presenter.

"I am beyond honored for this prestigious award," I begin, holding the accolade carefully. "To tell you the truth, I don't even have an award speech prepared. So…I guess I'd like to first thank my director and my co-stars for making this possible. They were an absolute joy to work with every day."

I swallow, keeping my eyes on Edward to refrain from crying. "I'd also like to thank my Dad, Charlie, whom without him, I would have never made it this far. Thank you Dad for always believing in me."

"Next, I'd like to thank Jessica, my assistant." I glance over at her to see her smiling. "I don't know what I would do without her. She warned me not to tell the world how she was almost strangled to death by bread, so I won't. So please check your messages, as I have emailed you all detailed photographs of the event."

"Lastly, I'd like to thank Edward Cullen, my stylist. He has, without a doubt, changed my perception about life. As I stand here, dressed in what could only be leftover baked goods from my neighbor's pantry, I am declaring my fondness for the one and only Mr. Cullen. I don't know where to tart, but this is no half-baked attempt: I am rising to the occasion to tell you how I feel."

The music sounds, alerting me I've gone over my time limit.

"Dammit people, don't you see I'm professing my undying like for the man?" I begin to wrap up my speech.

I stare at Edward, with hope glimmering in my eyes.

"I'll do my best not to leave here in tiers, but the heat is on. Don't let this moment be a recipe for disaster. I know that you're nothin' Bundt trouble, but that's the yeast of our problems. I am falling for you, Edward."

The gorgeous man stands upright, blowing me a kiss for all to see. My insides crumble to know that his feelings are mutual.

Being a Vaglexic, I wanted to leave this entire shindig and head straight home.

Sure, it would take hours for Edward to remove every ounce of icing from my body. But he didn't know my filthy, secret plan.

_I intended to get very, very creamed._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**

_P.S.-Cake Dress on Profile! (Really, I need a Photoshopper for what's really in my head!)_

_Hmmm, confession from Edward or sex scene next? Decisions, Decisions..._


	14. Hungry? Why Wait? Said No Bum Ever

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter 14: Hungry? Why Wait? Said No Bum Ever**

We partied until five in the morning.

When I say we, I would like to include the majority of my posse, but alas, that was not the case.

Alice spent most of the time at the after-party taking bites out of my dress, Edward continued refilling my chocolate fountain, and Jess kept threatening to quit.

By the time the sun was ready to rise, we all piled into the limousine and crashed at my place. I fell into a deep sleep on my bed, still covered in cake, only to awake with Alice licking my leg.

When I stated earlier that I had wanted to get intimate with a Cullen, this is not what I had in mind.

"Alice!" I say, groggily. "Cut it out!"

She wipes her mouth, looking up at me remorsefully. "I just wanted extra sprinkles! So good…"

I allow her to take a few more bites before pushing her away. "I need to shower. And change my bed sheets. And eat breakfast. Are the others awake?"

Alice shrugs, licking her fingers. "I don't know. I've been in here the whole time."

"You spent the night…in my room?"

"Don't judge me, Bella. You have a dress made of delicious, buttery cake; I couldn't resist myself." Alice stands up from the bed, lending out an icing-filled hand. "If it makes you feel any better, I ate most of the cake from your torso. Had you not been so persistent in rolling over, you would have been cake-free by now."

I glance down, seeing a slight nibble on my right breast. "I feel molested."

"You shouldn't. But if you need help in the shower-"

"I don't!" I nearly shout, rushing off to my bathroom.

It takes two minutes to push against the door and another three of threatening to call the police before I am left on my own.

When I am finally under the hot, steaming water, I pause slightly, thinking I hear heavy breathing behind me.

Even though I see no one, there's a nagging suspicion the cake on my lower back didn't wash off by itself.

* * *

"Damn it!"

Slamming the cell phone down on the floor, Edward rubs his hands through his hair, pulling it tightly despite the pain.

He had one week left until James came looking for him. According to his contract, he wouldn't get paid until the end of the month, and if he asked for an advance, Bella would get suspicious.

This is what happens when you had your name on several hit lists.

James "Crazy Eyes" Coven was not the mother-fucker you wanted waiting for you when you walked out onto the streets alone. More than once, Edward had dodged the man he owed thousands of dollars to. A recovering gambler, Edward had straightened up his ways, but a debt was a debt.

"Edward?" One knock and a dripping, wet Bella enters his room with only her towel wrapped around her body.

"Hey you." He attempts to smile, forgetting his troubles as Bella sits on his lap.

"Sleep well?" She wraps her arms around him, and he inhales her vanilla scent. Though his mind is troubled, he vaguely pushes his distress to the side to return her affection. He didn't know how it had happened, but Bella was making him into a weak man. Her confession at the awards ceremony the previous night had left him feeling quite torn.

"I slept alright. How about you?" His fingers run through her wet curls, oblivious to how he should be behaving.

"Okay, I guess. I woke up to your sister licking my leg."

Edward laughs, not surprised in the slightest. "She's addicted to sugar. I should have warned you. Once, she stole a candy bar from a homeless man."

"No way!" Bella exclaims in shock.

"Yep. Next thing we know, she is running down the street with a whole gang of hobos chasing her down in retaliation. We found her huddled in a dumpster, her mouth covered in chocolate."

"Did she even buy him another one? Or apologize?"

Edward pauses, reliving the memory. "Let's just say she's not welcome anywhere near Downtown and Main. There's an entire alley with her picture drawn on cardboard boxes."

Bella giggles. "That's awful. I'm glad there's one sane Cullen. She's leaving this week, right?"

"Probably tomorrow. She's got classes," Edward explains. "She just wanted to check up on me. See if I was doing alright."

And staying out of trouble.

At least they both had agreed telling Bella the truth wasn't an option. They had tried, that's what counted. So if Bella thought he was a model, so be it. He didn't want to be the one to break her heart.

"Hey! I almost forgot!" Bella wiggles in Edward's lap, creating a friction that sends him into overdrive. He winces, adjusting her body in a different position.

Bella grabs the remote to the flat screen from the night stand, switching to several channels before finding what she's looking for. "Ekkk! I can't wait to say what they said about my dress! Did you notice everyone's expressions last night?"

Edward nods, peering forward to listen more closely. He had spent hours upon hours creating Bella's gown, every detail performed to execution from the Cooking Channel.

"_Welcome back to the Celebrity Network!" Bone Givers announces. "You are watching Style Cops with our Academy Awards fashion overview. We've gone through the lists, from Kristen Stewart dazzling in Chanel to Jennifer Lawrence amazing the world in Dior. And now, for our Worst Dressed Celebrity…"_

"Wait, did I miss something? Was I in the top ten?" Bella squints her eyes, as if to search for her image in the flashing background.

"_This starlet, which is usually known for her plain and lackluster gowns decided to throw us all for a loop."_

"_You said it, Givers!" the co-host agrees. "While she may have thought she looked delicious, she was downright atrocious. I mean, who in the heck dresses like this to an award show? _The_ award show of the year. In my opinion, this wasn't the Worst Dressed of the night, she's the Worst Dressed of the CENTURY! So tell us, who deserves this recognition, without a shadow of a doubt?"_

"_The Worst Dressed award goes to…drumroll please…Bella Swan for her inedible, revolting, cake catastrophe!"_

The confetti falls, but before Bella can be humiliated anymore, I shut off the television.

Edward shakes his head, obviously disagreeing with their decision. "Where did we go wrong?"

"WE!" Bella's voice shrieks as she jumps from the bed. "WE? You have got to be kidding me! This is your fault! You did this! You were supposed to be changing my image! Believe in me, you said. You'll be an icon, you said! You need more chocolate, you said! Why, oh, why did I ever listen to you?"

Bella's rage is far from over as she starts throwing pillows as ammunition.

Edward uses his hands to block to her soft missiles. They are soft, but damn, she's got good aim. Why did women have so many pillows?

"Bella, listen, I thought you looked fantastic. You can't listen to everyone's opinion!"

"I'm an actress! Everyone's opinion DOES matter! That's my career, Edward. Do you even realize what you've done? Directors won't take me seriously. Oh, gosh, I'm ruined. No one will hire me ever again. I'm going to end up on the street and Alice is going to come by and steal the only candy I've got…"

Bella rambles in fragmented sentences as Edward grumbles internally at his mistake. He didn't realize the damage he had caused. All he knew was that he had to fix it. Bella's reputation was on the line and if she fired him now, then all would be lost. Not only was he upset for hurting her, but for letting her down. He had to fix this.

Grabbing her wrists and pulling her closely, he hugs her tight, placing a soft kiss upon her forehead. "I'll make it better, Bella, I swear."

Bella remains in his embrace, but does not return the affection. "You better, Edward. Because you're not getting paid until you fix this mess!"

Edward freezes in his position, stunned at her words. No paycheck? If he didn't get compensated, James would have his ass.

_Think,_ _Edward, think. You've been rationalizing too far ahead, trying to be some huge fashion expert. Keep it simple. Bella looked fine before you got ahold of her. Just take her original style and twist it so that she's still her, just better._

Edward releases Bella, searching through his bag for the one object he needed to transform Bella Swan into the fashion star he knew she could be.

"What are you looking for?" Bella asks, sniffling loudly.

Edward ignores her, until he finds a container of red paint. "Go downstairs and get breakfast, Bella. I've got a lot of work to do. I'm going to do my best to make this up to you. I'll call you up here in a few hours, I promise."

Bella retreats to her room, grabs a robe, and curses out Alice for licking her bed comforter. When Edward is assured she is completely out of sight, he enters Bella's humungous shoe closet, paintbrush in hand.

When Edward first met Bella, she was wearing heels with the bottoms colored in red marker. It was amateur, at best. If red soled heels was what she wanted, then red soled heels she would get.

As Edward settled onto the floor and opened his container, he noted how odd it was that Bella had only colored shoes from a guy named Christian Louboutin.

Not only would he repaint those heels, he grabbed several pairs of Prada, Jimmy Choo and Balenciaga, all still in their respective boxes.

Three thousand dollars for one pair? Edward shook his head in disgust at the price stickers labeled on the sides.

_When he was finished, Bella's shoes would be priceless._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**


	15. The Rubber Ducky Is Watching

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: The Rubber Ducky Is Watching**

A wise man once said '_You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain_.'

He obviously had never met Edward Cullen.

I, today, choose to be the villain. My name would be plastered all over the newspapers. Internet articles would view me as the actress who lost her mind. My movies would be memorialized in vaults with Killer as the listed tag.

I couldn't find it in me to care.

My mouth gapes open as Edward parades around my expensive shoe closet, showing off each and every painted soled shoe.

"I know you are fond of red, but then I thought, what the heck? Yellow is good too. And green. And whoever said orange was an ugly color never saw these Pradas…"

I could hang him, the good old-fashioned method never failed. Bullets were acceptable, and the blood would match the disaster he made.

Finally, I settle on choking. If it could bring down Jess, it would bring down Edward. The light would slowly leave his eyes, and then I'd pour paint over his deadless soul.

"Ahhhhhhhhh! Can't….breathe…"

I wrap both hands around his neck, tightening my grip as he stumbles, knocking shoes from every shelf. Edward's arms attempt to grab anything to hold his balance, but I don't give him the satisfaction.

"Bewwa! Nooooooo!"

A feeble, crying voice appears behind me, tugging on the hem of my robe.

"Stay out of this, Ariana!" I warn her. "Your precious Edward painted my heels and now he has to pay for his actions!"

Ariana picks up a heel, twisting it around to see her loverboy's handiwork. "But they awe so pwetty!"

Of course she would defend him. What a twerp.

"They're horrible, Ariana," I reply, still holding my grasp as Edward struggles for air. "What Edward did was a bad, bad thing. What if he had painted your Barbies?"

"Help!" Edward squeaks, reaching out for the three year-old to save his life.

_Not today, you Shoe Painter. Not today._

"Oh." Ariana finally understands my predicament and nods. "Sowwy, Edward. Mommy said you shouldn't touch things that don't bewong to you."

My lip curls upward into an evil grin. There was hope for the little munchkin after all. She has potential. I like that.

"Go find some rope, Ariana. We'll hang 'em by his feet!"

Ariana starts to scamper off but is scooped up by Jess as she comes running into the room. "No you don't! Go downstairs and watch T.V. I'll be down in a minute!"

Ariana pouts, pointing at Edward. "But Mommy-"

"Don't you Mommy, me. Now, Ariana! Ten minutes the child is here and already a witness to a crime." Jess places her daughter onto her feet and Ariana looks at Edward, swiping her hand across her throat.

His eyeballs start to gouge out as Jess frantically pulls me away. Edward falls to the ground, gasping for oxygen.

_I was so close. My accomplice is gone and when I get fifteen to life, no one will believe a toddler assisted me. I'm bringing her down, too, if it's the last thing I do._

"You crazy woman!" Edward coughs out, his face changing shades as he engulfs large masses of air.

"I'm crazy? You painted my shoes! All of them! What were you thinking? Do you even know how much this collection costs? Some of them are rare, only made for me from designers! I should have poisoned your food. Or drove over your body. So many possibilities…"

Jessica helps Edward to his feet. "Oh, Edward, why would you do that?"

Adjusting the collar of his shirt, he explains. "Bella was so angry at the reviews from her dress, so I thought I'd make it up to her. I knew she colored some of her heels red, so I thought I'd do the rest for her."

Colored my shoes? I attempt to muse through Edward's thought process. "You mean the shoes with the red bottoms? Those are Louboutins, you nimwit! He intentionally makes the soles red, it's his trademark. Tell me you didn't paint over those too!"

I pick up a silver heel, and sure enough, the bottom is painted a horrid yellow shade.

"That's it, Edward! I've had it up to here. You are fired. Fired, fired, fired. I cannot do this anymore. Please send naked pictures of yourself to my phone, and then leave."

"You can't fire me, it's in my contract!" Edward rebuttals.

I fume, needing to take a second look at those papers. "Fine. Then stay. Just leave me alone."

I storm off to my bathroom, needing some much needed space. I could hear Jess and Edward cleaning up, whispering to each other in quiet voices.

All I wanted was a hot bath and some time to figure out how many pillows it would take to suffocate Edward in his sleep.

* * *

"Bella?"

A soft voice awakens me as I lie in the steaming water, my fingers pruned beyond belief.

"What do you want?"

I'm not in the least bit startled by Edward sitting on the floor beside me, my naked body exposed.

"I just wanted to apologize. It was never my intention to anger you." Edward looks lost, as if he had a whole speech planned out but none of it is able to come to fruition.

I sit up, holding on to the edge of my Jacuzzi tub for support. "I know that, Edward. It's just that I don't know what goes through your head sometimes. Are you purposefully trying to hurt me? Do you secretly work for Kristen Stewart? That bitch has been after me ever since Panic Room."

"What? No! This is my first stylist job, I swear." Edward looks to me with a miserable expression, and my willpower battles within to believe him.

"Then why are you trying to destroy me?" I question with malice. It's the only explanation that makes sense.

I lock eyes with him, and in that moment, Edward looks at me with something to prove. Like no words could explain his actions, but he's intent on showing me how wrong I am.

His fingers run down my thigh, and although I should stop him, I don't. He caresses me, inch by inch until he grazes my clit. I inhale as he plunges into me. Beads of sweat pour on his brow, and it has nothing to do with the heat of the room.

An ache builds and though I fight, telling myself he ruined my most prized possessions, I waver.

_He didn't mean to. Any man with resources and a gallon of paint would have done the same._

My body betrays me, as I sink into both the water and his lusting eyes. I'm so lost in my own frenzy; it's too late before I notice his naked body causing the levels to rise.

He pulls his my lips roughly to his, and his cock is rubbing against me in the most delicious way. I'm too far gone when he touches me, grabbing my hair and licks me just beneath my ear. The pain shoots through me, but is pleasurable at the same time.

"I said I was sorry, Bella." Edward murmurs, as I grip the skin on his back. "I said I was apologizing. But it seems as if this is the only way you'll listen."

Through clenched teeth, he drives his cock into me, and I scream to prevent biting into his neck. Anything I had ever fantasized about sex with Edward vanished into thin air. This was overwhelming, powerful sensations I had never imagined before.

"Do you even realize what you do to me?" He thrusts, making water splash onto the granite floor. I moan, the way he erotically grabs my breast, and roughly flicks it in rhythm. I'm unable to form complete words, our bodies sliding against the slippery porcelain. Each movement sends us deeper into a place we could never return.

"How you make me feel?" Edward drives into me again and again, causing my orgasm to be on the brink of the horizon. I have yet to take a single breath as our tongues battle above the steam of the water. My legs start to vibrate, and the handful of hair he has is released. Drips of water trickles from his wet hair, falling onto my flushed face.

"Have you any idea how remorseful I am?" Only able to moan a response, I lean my head back as pleasure ripped through me.

I scream, my cries muffled by Edward's hands as he shouts '_Fuck_!' through his orgasm. I tremor my release, feeling Edward throb inside of me. Hs body shakes against mine, and I resist the urge to say the first word.

Instead, my heart is pacing, racing against the moment in time. My breathing calmed as Edward kisses me on my forehead. "I'm sorry, Bella."

I nod, my body instantly cold as he rises in the tub and grabs a towel to wrap me in. Thoughts race through my mind as I think of a reply, but nothing worth stating. Instead, I fixate my eyes on an empty spot, contemplating how this would change our relationship.

"Bella?"

"Yes Edward?" I shake my head, attempting to give him my full, undivided attention.

"I wanted to repeat how sorry I am."

I tuck the towel around me, as Edward does the same to his waist. "I know, Edward. You told me already."

"No…I meant about something else. I didn't get a chance to show you. So this is a pre-apology."

"For?"

"Girls like their shoes and purses to match, right?"

As it dawns on me the context of his words, I shriek from frustration to think of my beloved handbags ruined.

_Damn it, Edward!_

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**

_**Check out "Tremor," a new compilation story by TheFirstResponders. I'm lucky to be a part of the wonderful group of authors participating._

_** I am sooo behind on review replies. Please accept my apologies and know I treasure each and every effort you guys give to reading/reviewing my story. In the meantime, I offer you this exclusive, one-of-a-kind Crayola Louboutin pair of heels…_


	16. My Standards Are Questionable

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: My Standards Are Questionable**

"Can I touch it?"

"No."

"Can I at least see it?"

"No!"

"C'mon, just one lick and I promise, I'll leave you alone. Scouts honor."

I groan, making sure my bedroom door is locked as Alice stands in the hallway, asking for permission to molest me. _At least she's polite about it._

"Fine. I hope you realize there's a two inch gap at the bottom of your door." I just know she's out there, pouting and plotting to find a way to sneak in. I'd spend whatever amount of money necessary to install deadbolts on my door. "But you better hurry or else we are going to be late."

It's Alice's last night. To celebrate, we're all going out to the club Lure, _the_ hotspot in L.A. Jess and I have been there many times before, ordering champagne in the VIP section, and pouring it onto the common people below. It's all fun and games until they kick you out.

I find the most indecent red dress I own, sucking in every ounce of fat possible. The dress is seductive to say the least, but after the evening I just experienced with Edward, my morals have changed. Operation Fuck Me Again is a-go.

I run my fingers through my curls, apply red lipstick and head down the stairs, barefoot.

"Look at you! Hot stuff, chica!"

Jess approves of my outfit, showering me with comments. I try to avoid Alice, who is staring at me creepily from behind the couch, licking her lips.

I curtsy and spin around, showing off my famous assets. "Did you get my shoes?"

"And a clutch. It helps that I know people. Just try to keep it away from your lover boy." Jess winks, handing me a pair of strappy stilettos and a clutch to match. It's already filled with my personal belongings. I knew there was a reason I kept her around. "Okay, let me call my mother-in-law to make sure Ariana's okay and then we can leave."

I strap the buckle on my right heel and glance around. "Where's Edward?"

"In his room. Channeling his inner Bieber-douchness," Alice replies.

I want to question what she means, but when Edward comes rushing down the stairs. He's wearing dark jeans and a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up. But it's the tattoos that startle me.

"What did you do?" I ask in horror. Upon closer inspection, I notice an elephant, Spiderman, and something that resembles a deformed butterfly.

Edward shrugs, showing off his new artwork. "Fruit Roll Ups. Turns out, with a little saliva you can paste them on your arm."

_Yeah, 'cause nothing says bad boy like kids' chewable snacks._

"Alright," Jess explains, emerging back into the room. "Who's ready for a night out on the town?"

"I am! I am!" Alice squeals, her platform heels teetering as she skips. "Just remember, no matter what I say or how much I plead, do not let me drink."

* * *

"I am sooooo drunk," Alice says, purposefully slurring her words.

"You've had one margarita and it was a virgin," I deadpan, cuddling up to Edward on the white leather couch. The atmosphere is completely chaotic. There's barely any breathing room on the dance floor and the music is pumping so loud, I'm starting to get a headache. "I made sure your drinks were liquor free. Don't worry, you can be a slut any night of the week, just not tonight."

Jess grabs Alice by the arm. "Let's go dance. If these two are just going to make out all night, I don't want to sit by and watch."

"But-"

"C'mon small fry,' Jess tugs Alice, leaving Edward and I alone.

"Are you having fun?" I yell, my voice rising about the music.

"What?"

"Are you having a good time?"

"Huh?"

I sigh, yanking two olives out of Edward's ears. "Really? Is that what we're doing now- stuffing food into any orifices available?"

"They were playing J-Lo music. It was either that or jump off the balcony," Edward explains. "I'm not a monster, Bella. Just think of how many lives I just saved."

"Okay, Peter Parker. Well, I hope you're hungry. As an apology for attempting to drown you in the tub for the whole handbag incident, I had the kitchen staff make you a treat. You'll love it!"

Right on time, a waiter appears. "Miss Swan, the hor d'ourves you requested."

"Thank you!" I slide a hundred dollar bill into his hand, and take the plate simultaneously. _Smooth. _

I take one of the expensive creations holding it up to Edward's mouth. He takes a bite, making sure he licks my fingers slowly.

"Delicious, right?"

Edward nods, cramming three more in his mouth. "So good! What are these?"

"Caramelized mushroom Gruyere tartlets. They are divine." I moan, too busy savoring the taste that I fail to notice Edward spitting out his food.

His lips are swelling and his breathing is turning heavy. "Why? Why wosh you shill me?"

"Kill you?" Edward's face turns extremely red and he starts to resemble a blowfish.

Oh, God, you're allergic, aren't you?"

"Mushshooms. I can't wheat mushshooms!"

I panic, looking around for help. He's going to die and I have no idea what to do.

"Bib you boo wish on purshish?"

I stare at him quizzically. "What? No! You think I did this on purpose? I was just trying to surprise you!"

Let it be known, Edward and I need to quit trying impress one another. It's not working out for either of us.

He's huffing, grasping at my body for support. I move to the left. As much as I want to assist him, I don't want to ruin my dress.

I totally think Roberto Cavalli would stand by my decision.

I rush from the VIP area, searching for help, flailing my arms about like a mad woman. I needed to save Edward's life. If he died, my vagina would never forgive me.

Operation Fuck Me Again has utterly failed. Or maybe not.

As I look back at Edward's catatonic state, I realize there is hope.

Even though he's a puffer fish, he's still doable.

_Fat cheeks or not, I'd hit that._

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**

_**The Client has been featured on The Lemonade Stand (TLS)! How awesome is that! TY to Gloria K and to all of you crazy readers!_

_***New Story up called Seventeen Fireflies. Apparently, some of you have already stalked me over there, but if you haven't, check it out!_


	17. This Isn't What It Looks Like

**{The Client}**

**Summary- I have nothing to fear but fear itself. And my incompetent stylist. I just asked for Spanx, but his hand is raised and…this isn't going to end well.**

**Characters- Edward, Bella, and their many shenanigans. **

**Rated M- Don't tell me you're just in it for the malarkey.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: This Isn't What It Looks Like**

It's a shame the way the world works.

One moment you're screaming for help because your hot stylist is dying of an allergic reaction, and the next you're being pulled off by a paramedic just because you're trying to sneak a few humps in.

In between Edward's wheezing, I could tell he was totally into it.

"Sir, this is an epinephrine injection. We are going to insert it directly into your thigh. Stay calm. It should start working immediately." The paramedic stabs Edward in his leg, while everyone stands around in awe. The smug look on his face irritates me. I mean, was I not just doing the exact same thing? Where are my accolades for rescuing Edward?

Sure, I may have caused swelling in other areas rather than decreasing them, but let's face facts here. If Edward were to die, he would have went a happy man. That's enough to get me to sleep at night.

"Fank…you…" Finally, Edward is able to rasp out a few words. Because of my quick thinking and life-saving skills, I nod my head.

"You're welcome, Edward."

The paramedic turns in my direction, the frown apparent on his face. "I believe he was talking to me."

_Oh. Well, you don't have to be such a jerk about it. _

"Sir, you should be fine now. Take it easy, and stay away from anymore mushrooms. If you are begin to feel dizzy, have trouble breathing, or the swelling does not subside, call 911 immediately."

The paramedics give Edward another final check, pack up their belongings and head out. Jessica, Alice, and I help Edward to his feet, assisting him out of the club.

"So…that was fun…" I joke, standing with everyone under the streetlight.

"You almost killed my brother," Alice accuses me, pointing her finger.

"Dry humping, Bella? Where are your priorities? He could have died!" Jess shakes her head in disgust.

The key phrase here is "could have." I consider Edward's ability to walk a definite success.

"He's fine. I mean, look at him!" I point to the bulge that was once his beautiful face. "You can barely notice the puffiness anymore. It's more like a Botox job. You look great, Edward. I'd pay millions to have those lips."

When his only response is a subtle growl, I fear we may have to agree to disagree.

* * *

I sneak in through Edward's door to check on his current condition. He's sleeping, with a tad bit of drool seeping out the corner of his mouth. I tuck him in tightly with the blanket and kiss his deformed forehead.

Hopefully, he'll be back to himself by morning. Otherwise, sex is going to be difficult if I have to look at his distorted face. There are only so many positions you can do with a paper bag covering your head.

On my way out, I trip over Edward's black binder peeking out from under the bed. I pick it up, to place it on the dresser when several magazine cut-outs fall to the floor.

_What the hell?_

The images are disturbing. Clowns dressed colorful attire, a Scooby-Doo costume edited with fur, dresses with cheetah prints coordinated with zebra purses…it's enough to make me open the binder.

The inside cover is labeled, scrawled in cursive writing: _Bella Swan's Style Guide. _

I flip through, hesitantly scrutinizing every photograph. Between the pages are craft pamphlets, Halloween costume design guides and a horde of Lady Gaga photos.

I'm hoping to have picked up the wrong binder when Edward's phone beeps next to his pillow. I slide it off the bed, careful not to awaken him.

It's a missed text message from some guy named James.

_Where's my money, Cullen? Don't think you can hide from me._

Money? Intrigued, I scroll through the messages, each one similar in content.

_Pay me back my dough. _

_I'm sending my men for you. _

_What's the difference between you and Nemo's mom? Nothing. You're both dead._

Ouch. That last one hurt.

I narrow my eyes suspiciously between the binder and Edward's secret friend. Something is definitely amiss. It doesn't add up.

Why would a well-paid model owe money to a creepy guy? Why would he keep a folder with my name on it and pictures of poorly dressed people? And lastly, if Edward's face is swollen to a pulp, would that mean his penis is too?

I didn't know the answers to these questions, but I intended to find out.

My very life depends on it.

No, I'm kidding. That's so dramatic. The only thing in jeopardy around here are my orgasms and I didn't plan on giving them up anytime soon.

Stroking Edward's cock through the heavy material, I carefully inch my hand until I reach the edge of his pajama bottoms.

I'm _this_ close to realizing my fantasy when Edward's eyes barely open.

"Bella?"

"Um, yeah?"

A dozen excuses run through my mind of why I'm molesting him in his sleep, but none of it matters. He gazes down to the electronic in my hand.

"Why do you have my phone?"

I should be concerned I've broken Edward's trust. My anxiety should stem from the fact that he'll never believe my lies. Instead, I hang my head in shame.

I've been caught red-handed. This is the end. My vagina will never again enjoy the magnificence that is Edward Cullen's cock.

_The Orgasms of Bella Swan_

_May You Cum In Peace_

_June 2, 2014_

* * *

**Thanks for reading & keep on laughing.**

**XOXO, **

**ThisIsReallyHappening**

_*I want to ask why you all keep reading this, but I now know it has nothing to do with the malarkey and everything to do with Edward's peen. I'm on to you, you sick, little readers. :D_


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